When fists collide
by RizzoTheGeekster
Summary: If there was ever an ordinary day in Wolfram & Heart today wasnt one of them. Spike's teather was ready to snap and Angel was going to pay, but then he found himself in the 15th century


**Hey guys , ok so this is my first story on fanfic , i hope you like my mash up of shows and my story , reviews are always welcome =D **

**P.S I do not own any characters wrote about in this story =(**

"And what's more, Ang-"

Spike stopped, confused. Not a moment ago he had been standing in the swanky glass and chrome interior of a Wolfram & Heart office, with the lumbering frame of none other than Captain Forehead standing directly in front of him. Just three minutes ago, he had been on the receiving end of one of Angel's rants about "how he got in the way" and "how useless he was in the work place" - or at least that was the main gist of the onslaught that Spike had understood, as he had soon switched off when Angel began ranting. That was then, but now, now it was dark, and he could feel the light breeze of a wind in his face and hear the soft rustling of leaves. He could feel the soft cushioning of moss beneath his feet, and guessed he was outside. The distinct smell that came after heavy rain filled his sensitive nostrils and he came to the unsettling conclusion that he must be in a forest.

Spike spun around on his heels, trying o work out the situation, when a stabbing pain came from his chest; seconds later, another came from his head. He sank down onto his knees and, using one hand for support on the ground, he slammed his fist against his chest, grabbing at the loose fabric of his top, wishing for the pain to stop. His hand stopped over his peck, and he paused, waiting and wishing that oh God, it can't be, please Lord no, anything else.

'Cast me into the pit for an eternity of damnation before this," Spike thought. His silent prayers were ignored. It was inevitable.

Spike had a soul.

* * *

><p>It was growing dark on this early October evening, and Sir Guy was travelling back towards the castle from the small village of Nettleston. The sheriff had requested that a new tax be put in place, and collecting it from the peasants of the village had taken longer than Guy would have hoped. He was travelling in a pack of five, two guards in front of him and two behind. He was enclosed by his guards and his horse was laden down with shifting coins, the sound like liquid gold and silver sliding round in bags below him. Guy felt a sense of power, as he knew that the money below him could buy him a favour with the sheriff - it would prove that he was useful and an asset to him. The thought wandered through his mind as something caught his eye - there was a lane that crossed into the path that the little procession was travelling along. A figure dressed in black, clad much like Guy himself, was crouching on the forest, throwing leaves and shouting.<p>

"Stop," Guy called to the guards in front of him as he dismounted his horse and strode towards the darkened figure. He walked down the shallow embankment as Spike stood up, and started pacing. Spike was annoyed and was displaying this through his actions - he lent against the trunk of a tree, buried his head in his arms and banged his fists against the ebony bark. Guy, not knowing how to address this man, coughed loudly. Spike already knew that there was someone standing behind him - he could smell him, smell the ruby red running through his veins - but he was in no mood to talk to anyone. Being zapped away from his previous surroundings wasn't the thing that was grating on him; it was the pounding - boom, boom - in his chest. He could live without the sight of Angel going on at him, Hell, he wasn't even sure where Angel was anymore, but it was this pain that was battering his body. The pain hurt, hurt so much, blood pumping in your own veins when all you craved was the blood of another. It was ironic, but shouldn't happen. His chest wasn't the only pain though. There was a lightning pain stabbing at his brain; he couldn't decipher it. Guy cleared his throat again and placed his hand on the hilt of his sword.

"What?" Spike spun round with such power that he was rewarded with another sharp pain in his head. His leather duster caught the wind and flew round with him.

"Who are you?" Guy barked, trying to add a threatening tone into his voice, when in reality he was a little intimidated by this man, but he wasn't going to show it. He pulled in the little amount of fear that he allowed himself to show and straightened up. He was taller than this blond man and he would use this to his advantage.

"The name's Spike, and who are you, king of the ponces?" Spike replied in his think London accent. At that, Guy, whose hand was already in position, grasped the engraved hilt and drew his sword. The blade reflected an image of the clouds in its polished metal, the tip of the weapon sharpened to a pin point. Guy held it majestically - he felt more in control of the situation when he was armed and his opponent was not. Once the blade was drawn a glimmer of contentment flashed through his eyes, and he let the corner of his mouth twitch up ever so slightly, and he made sure that Spike saw it. Guy stepped forward and Spike backed up in reaction, only to find that he'd backed into a tree, the rough bark lightly digging into his back. Guy placed the tip of his weapon against Spike's torso. Normally, Spike wouldn't have been fazed by such an action as he knew that if someone did stab him, then yes, it would bloody hurt, but he wouldn't die. Now, however, with the puzzling new development, he was unnerved. Guy stopped the tip of the metal against Spike's left peck, right where his newly beating heart lay.

"The name's Guy," he said with a slight smirk. In response to this Spike gave his signature pout and laughed in mockery.

"Something funny?" Guy inquired with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah,, you mate," Spike said as he shifted the blade to his right and away from himself, so he could get away from this pathetic man. In a way this 'Guy' character reminded him of Angel and that just pissed him off. As Spike removed himself from the tree, Gisborne returned his sword to its holder and walked after Spike. Gisborne's men were still seated on their horses and didn't look like they wanted to move anytime soon. Spike headed towards them because it was in the opposite direction to where Guy was. Spike's pace was brisk as he was eager to find a way out of this Hell hole of a forest and back to the civilisation of the 21st century. Guy lightly jogged up to Spike and grabbed him by the collar of his coat, turning him around until he was eye to eye with him.

"Don't you know who I am?" His voice was deep and he tried to hide the hint of curiosity that escaped his lips.

"No!" Spike said bluntly, raising his arms and pushed Guy away. "So if you don't mind, sod off." He walked away as Guy momentarily stood there gawping at this man. No one had ever shown him, Guy of Gisborne, such a lack of respect. So he sought to change this.

He calmly walked up to the turned back of Spike, again grabbing him by the collar, but his time he uttered no words and instead delivered a hard punch onto Spike's pale cheek. Spike was taken aback slightly; he wouldn't have suspected a ponce could deliver such a hard right hook. He staggered backwards, holding his cheek with his hand, laughing and squaring himself up, ready for some banter.

"Guards." Guy's deep voice bellowed as he narrowly avoided some of Spike punches. The guards, who were dressed in chain mail and the sheriff's crest, slowly lumbered down towards the brawl. Guy threw some punches, of which Spike deflected with ease, and then he took his turn for his flesh to collide with Guy's. Spike's vampire strength always proved useful in fights and he downed Guy with one swift blow to the jaw. Spike was about to straddle Guy to completely demolish his face - which he hoped would take him down a peg on Spikes 'prick scale'. He wasn't ready for Guy's action; the dark haired man sprung up from the floor and pinned Spike underneath him.

Cadmium, orange and terracotta leaves spread themselves under Spike and he rolled around in protest as Guy delivered blow after blow to the vampire's porcelain face. All four guards descended on Spike's lightly bruised form - one pulled him up by his collar, the other two grabbed an arm each and the last hung back, but stood prepared in case something went wrong. Spike was pulled to his feet and held in place while Guy regained his posture. He flicked his dark hair out of his eyes and glared hatefully at the platinum creature, raising a gloved hand to grab Spike by the throat. Spike tried to turn away and fought against the guards' iron grips, but he wasn't going anywhere. Gisborne's glove covered the two small scars situated on Spike neck where his beloved Drusilla had bitten him, all those centuries ago, and his fingers wrapped around Spike's windpipe.

Guy squeezed his forceful grip on Spike's neck, hissing, "You will learn to respect me" Then, he turned to his guards., giving a flick of his head in the direction of the horses. "Take him away." Spike was pulled away and Guy smirked. Another victory.

The guard that wasn't holding Spike tethered one end of a rope to Gisborne's saddle and tied the other end to Spike's wrists, the other guards holding the prisoner's arms in place.

The vampire protested relentlessly with sarcastic comments and insults for his captors. "You can't be bloody serious?" he asked, retaining his sarcastic demeanour.

"I think you'll find I am," Guy said plainly.

"Where are you taking me?" Spike questioned as one of the guards finished tying his wrists, while the others mounted their horses. "Where are you taking me?"

"We're taking you to the castle," Gisborne said, bored of talking to this inferior being.

"Oh God, another bloody castle." Spike paused, staring down at his wrists and then what his wrists where attached to. 'BLOODY HELL!" he roared as he tried to pull himself free of his restraints.

"I wouldn't bother, if I were you," Gisborne said slowly. "It's a long run to the castle."

**Ok so thats chapter one out the way , tell me what you thought. REVIEWS ALWAYS WELCOME =D**


End file.
